


Born of Chaos and Darkness

by punkstealer



Series: Good boy [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Brief character death, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale is nosy, Steter - Freeform, but it works out, god!stiles, he needs to know everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkstealer/pseuds/punkstealer
Summary: Tumblr: If you’re still taking Steter prompts, howwwww about some god/mortal au? Or something with reincarnation? Thanks!-He’s going with option two.“What are you?”Stiles eyes flick around the room, looking at anything that isn’t Peter, but he doesn’t pull away from Peter’s hand. So that’s a good start. Peter brings him closer and he can feel the air as Stiles’ breath hitches.“Who are you?”





	Born of Chaos and Darkness

Darkness was one of the few things that he truly knew; it consumed him and ate away at him until he wasn’t anything else. He became the shadows and darkness of the worlds. Maybe that’s why he did what he did or maybe it’s because he wanted to see the real souls that would pass him every day.

Or maybe he was just tired of the hallow feeling that resided in his chest.

-

When he’s born his mind is wiped clean. There is no memory of the dark or the sad souls that would scream and cry as they were dragged by. Even with a clean slate he could tell that he wasn’t normal. He could hear his parents whispering about him; saying there was something **_wrong_** with him and that other kids his age aren’t like **him**.

So he changed. First he picked a nickname, something cute and innocent, Stiles. Then he would talk and talk and _talk_ like he saw the other children. By the time Stiles is 5 he makes a new friend and the feeling inside of him is lighter. It doesn’t feel like a chore to act like a child.

When his mom gets sick a few years later she has a hard time distinguishing him from the younger, darker version that he once was. She holds him under the water during his bath until he can’t move anymore and the world swims away from him. The darkness was waiting to wrap him in cold embrace, but he wasn’t ready for that again. It sparked something in his mind and he remembered all of it and the feeling of _wrong_ dug its way under his skin.

His mom cried when he woke up; she said he’s evil and shouldn’t be around anymore. Maybe she was right. His dad wrapped him in a tight hug and tried to explain that it’s the sickness talking, not really her. Only Stiles and his mom know the truth about him.

-

“You know,” Stiles jerks up in surprise and he ends up slamming his head against the top of the fridge. “You’re the only one who hasn’t changed.”

“What are you talking about, dude?” Stiles scowls at Peter as he rubs the back of his head with his free hand. He’s been doing this thing where he appears out of nowhere when Sties is alone; Stiles isn’t sure if he should be flattered or annoyed.

It’s been some very confusing wack off sessions.

“The others.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

Stiles can’t help rolling his eyes as he tries to edge past Peter, who thought the best place to stand is right in the doorway. Peter’s smile shows too much teeth and he leans down into Stiles’ personal space, mouth a millimeter from brushing his ear.

“First Erica, then Boyd, and now you’re the only one not affected by that sacrifice. Tell me, Stiles, doesn’t that sound a bit odd?”

Goosebumps break out across his arms as Stiles thinks about it all. Erica and Boyd have been giving him a wide berth since they’ve been back; even Derek’s been standoffish toward Stiles and the ‘magic’ he could use to heal Boyd.

“The ritual did affect me.” Stiles says, fully aware that his heartrate didn’t change. It’s the one thing he can say truthfully, because it did affect him. The cold, slimy hands that grab at him and pry at his chest each time he dies still makes him wake with a shout, because he ~~won’t~~ can’t go back to that yet.

Peter pulls back and cocks his head to the side, clearly waiting for something else to be said, but seems to accept that the conversation has come to an end. He steps to the side and let’s Stiles walk past and back toward the pack meeting.

“Oh Stiles,” Peter calls out. “I’ll be sure to keep you updated with anything else.”

Stiles is sure that Peter is wearing his grin that says he’s a cat playing with a mouse, but he ignores him and keeps walking.

-

“Dude!” Stiles yelps as he tries to cover his chest without letting the towel drop from his hips. “What the hell!”

“Stiles, lovely to see you too.”

If looks could kill then Peter would be six feet under… again. Stiles continues to glare as he grabs a shirt from his dresser and rushes to get it on.

“No need to be so shy, I’ve seen it all before.” Peter leers at all of the exposed skin and fakes a pout once the shirt is pulled on.

“Do you need something or what?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

The air grows thick between them as Peter trails off and lets his eyes race up and down Stiles’ lean form. Stiles’ mouth suddenly feels too dry and tongue too big for his mouth; he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and bites at it. Peter’s eyes zero in on the movement, but he pulls himself out of his trance and smirks.

“It’s not magic, or at least t’s not regular magic.”

“What?” Stiles has to shake his head clear before he can figure out what’s going on. “Seriously? You break into my house for this?”

Peter spreads his arms wide before him from his spot on Stiles’ desk chair; he has a book on his lap and Stiles is only a _little_ bit curious about it. Like, just a teeny, weenie bit. Peter seems to realize this and holds it out, almost teasingly, for Stiles to take. He even gives it a little shake and that’s what makes him leap for the book.

Stiles can see the small smile on Peter’s face as he takes his leave.

-

It almost becomes a game between the two of them. Peter leaves books or printed out sheets of paper, because “I don’t just have a horde of books somewhere” and Stiles doesn’t believe that for a second, about different types of magic users. Stiles can now proudly say that he’s starting a collection of rare books, because Peter is definitely a liar about his books.

It all comes to a crashing halt.

-

“Peter!”

Stiles watches in horror as the rogue alpha pulls his hand out from Peter’s stomach. Derek lets out a roar as he rushes forward and latches onto the wolf. He can’t move; his feet feel like they’re cement blocks and all Stiles wants to do is run over, but he’s no longer connected to his body. Peter turns his head and blue eyes meet wide, frantic hazel eyes. It feels like the push that he needs and Stiles is suddenly landing on his knees beside him.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Stiles presses his hands against the gaping hole, but it does nothing to stop the blood. “You’re gonna be fine, Peter. Okay? So just hold on.”

Something warm is touching his cheek and it feels like everything is cashing down. Stiles looks up and Peter is watching him, his eyes soft and crinkled in the corner that only shows when he’s really laughing, and blood is staining his lips a bright crimson. It makes Stiles heart lurch in dread.

“Peter, you’re gonna be fine, okay?”

The noise coming from the fight behind him fades out as Stiles feels the darkness creeping toward them. Greedy hands crawling up from below them and just waiting to pounce to drag Peter down. The feeling makes the hair stand on the back of Stiles’ neck, but he’s not ready to leave.

“Listen to me, Peter, everything is going to be fine.”

The hand gently taps against his cheek again then drops down and latches onto the bloody mess that is Stiles hands. Peter’s eyes seem to glaze over and he lets out a choked off cough; red flakes dump out and Stiles can feel it paint his face. He lets his eyes fall shut and Stiles can feel the coldness jump onto the both of them and pulls them down.

“Peter!”

-

Peter is surrounded by the dark, but he knows where he is. It’s a place he’s familiar with and different at the same time. The last time he was here there was a waiting spot; a purgatory where he could sit and put his plan into motion. Now there’s nothing except the cold that’s seeping into his bones and the screams that echo around him. Something is pulling at his arms, but he can’t see what it is, and he has a sinking feeling in his gut that he knows where he’s going.  

“Peter?” He whips his head around, hope and dread filling him as he looks around for who’s calling him. “Hey there, Creeperwolf.”

“Stiles.” It sounds like a gasp, but Stiles doesn’t seem to mind as his smile widens until the point where it looks blinding in the darkness that is blanketing them. “What are you doing here?”

He’ll never forgive himself if he couldn’t save Stiles. The things holding his arms tug harder, urging him to move fast, almost as if they’re trying to separate him from Stiles.

“It’s time to go home.”

“I can’t go anywhere, Stiles. You need to do.”

Stiles only gives him a sad smile and holds out his hand. “I need you to take my hand.”

Peter tries to tug his arm free, but he can’t as the things hold on tighter and pull him to the point that he’s stumbling to catch up. He can hear Stiles snort as he speeds up to walk beside him. It looks as if he’s illuminated, glowing and making the creatures shy away.

“You’ll have to try harder than that. Come on, is that all you got?”

Peter growls and lunges at him, teeth snapping together in a playful manner. The things loosen their grip at the sudden movement and it gives him the chance to do it again. He manages to get one hand free and he blindly throws it out, grasping at Stiles’ appalling flannel, and Peter can hear Stiles’ laugh as the creatures’ growl.

Everything goes dark again, but this time Pete knows he’s not alone. The smell of Stiles and his erratic heartbeat attack him and make his head pulsate; he lets out a pathetic groan and tries to turn away.

“Oh thank god.”

Peter pries open an eye and sees Stiles peering down at him, he has dried blood scattered around his freckled cheeks and caked on prints running down his neck. It takes a moment for everything to come back to him. When it does Peter throws himself into an upright position, he almost slips off the side of the bed and he’s going to deny that forever, his eyes are glued to his stomach that’s surprisingly void of any marks.

“Stiles,” The younger male is radiating nervous energy, but still gives a small hum of acknowledgment. “What happened?”

“Well, Derek showed up just in time to take out that alpha and brought you back to the loft. I- We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Peter squints at him, Stiles is biting his bottom lip and has one hand on the bed that’s tapping a random beat. There are two options right now: one is accepting Stiles’ blatant lie or the second is to push for the truth no matter how uncomfortable he already is. He reaches out and gently places his hand against Stiles’ cheek, he instantly presses into the hand, and with his thumb he tugs out the mutilated lip.

He’s going with option two.

 “What are you?”

Stiles eyes flick around the room, looking at anything that isn’t Peter, but he doesn’t pull away from Peter’s hand. So that’s a good start. Peter brings him closer and he can feel the air as Stiles’ breath hitches.

“ _Who_ are you?”

Stiles’ licks his bottom lip. “Er- Erebus.”

Peter can feel the shiver run down his spine as he takes in the young man in front of him. His large, Bambi eyes refusing to meet his gaze and he’s holding himself stiff in a way that means he’s waiting for the rejection.

“Hmm,” Peter hums softly and brushes his lips across Stiles’. “Why am I not surprised?”

Stiles’ eyes widen and fly to look at Peter’s, but he has other ideas and instead brings his lips back to Stiles. It’s a clash of too much and not enough at the same time as they fight for dominance. Peter doesn’t have any doubt that it’s a bottle he’ll lose, but is still pleasantly surprised when Stiles’ lets him win. Stiles’ lets out a moan and brings a hand up to run through Peter’s hair.

Peter always knew there was something special about his boy; something that hid under his skin and was waiting to come out. He can’t wait to find out what else is there.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything like this so I hope it's okay!  
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://allteenwolf-shipits.tumblr.com/) and leave a prompt.


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